


Jeff Meets the New Neighbor

by Dark Automaton (0Dark_Automaton0)



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Creepy Dolls, Everyone has cellphones, Explicit Language, Gen, Humor, POV First Person, Parody
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 15:03:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4611219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0Dark_Automaton0/pseuds/Dark%20Automaton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new cabin is built in the Creepy Woods(trademark). Jeff decides to go meet(read as 'kill') his new neighbor. However, no random "Mary sue the killer" is in the house this time, and Jeff's not sure if that would be better or worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Jeff Meets the New Neighbor**

Jeff's Narration; First Person

It's some time in late to middle October, and as usual, I'm in line to do my laundry. Because despite being a gigantic gothic building that defies the laws of time and space, "Creepypasta Mansion"(as Ben calls it) only has one fucking laundry room. Add in the fact that every time somebody goes out, they come back covered in blood, the damn place is always crowded.

God, it's as if Slendy specifically designed this place to be almost uninhabitable by normal civilized folk. That is to say, nobody that currently lives here.

Anyways, so my phone starts vibrating in my pocket, and I pick it up as quickly as I can. It's a message from the Mansion's squeaker, Ben. Some of the guys decided it would be a good idea to make our own chat client, since getting actual phone numbers involved getting involved with phone companies, and I really don't think I have the payroll or patience to deal with absurd phone bills.

**\- BenDrowned has begun messaging JefftheKiller! -**

BD: Hey, Stabby McSmiles, get your ass down here!  
BD: Boss wants a word with you!  
JK: Ben, call me that again and I'll make you go to sleep.  
BD: Still the stupidest euphemism ever.  
JK: Didn't you die when you were like, six? How do you even know how to spell that word?  
BD: Says the dork stuck eternally at 13! Talk about an unlucky number.  
BD: Anyways, Slenderman wants you to take an assignment, and I can't relay it to you because it's "personal."  
JK: He said that?  
BD: He doesn't "say" anything, dude. He just... gestures.  
JK: Whatever, tell him I'll be down there soon; gotta drop off some laundry.  
BD: Yeah, well, hurry up!

**\- BenDrowned has stopped messaging JefftheKiller! -**

I give my laundry basket to one of the people behind me, and kindly ask him(read as "threaten to make him go to sleep if he doesn't") to take care of my laundry when it's his turn. I dunno his name, but I think he's one of those zombie fellows from that one apocalypse incident.

OK, well, there are a lot of those, but this one's from that universe where the zombies whispered. I swear, Slendy picks the weirdest dimensions to hop to sometimes.

So I go down to the meeting room, which is basically this little office-style board room attached to that huge-ass library. As usual for when he's in there, Slendy's standing at one end of the table, away from the door. His back is kind of hunched, because the ceiling's too low, and I don't think he can bend any of his limbs without them getting all noodly.

You know, I don't think I've ever seen the big guy so uncomfortable in my life.

He starts moving his arms wildly, like he only does in front of people he sorta trusts. I never learned sign language back in school, so I normally just guess what he's saying. It usually involves killing somebody, or breaking into somewhere.

Today's a bit different, though. He's actually looking excited, and tossed me a map. It showed me a path between the mansion and some sort of cabin elsewhere in the Creepy Woods(trademark). He's pointing at the spot of the cabin, so I pick up this much: Go there.

"Well alright then, I'll go there," I say in my smooth(read as "scratchy and grating") tone of voice, "But what am I supposed to do?"

Big Tall and Faceless stands straight as a line almost immediately. It reminds me of one of those cartoons where the cat gets smacked in the face by a flying floorboard. He begins more of his signing, but in a more refined manner. I think it might have been something about politeness, but I wasn't sure.

I just nod and smile, "So, greet the new neighbor?"

He nods. Great, I've been itching to practice my knifing skills on a real life lumberjack!

_Later...._

So now I'm walking in the woods, looking for this new house. Yeah, Slendy probably should have just given me latitude and longitude, and I could've found the house faster than I could using this lousy map. This guy draws like a pre-schooler!

Oh, hey, it's a cabin. It looks to be about two stories tall, made of logs, but looks bigger than a supposedly brand new cabin should have any right to be in these woods. I check the landmarks around the crummy drawing of the cabin, and they seem to vaguely match those around the real one, so it looks close enough.

I go up to the front door, and knock. No reply.

Or, at least, not a quick enough reply. I kick down the fucking door like I'm part of an 80s action flick, and charge in. Oh wow it's dark in here. Not that I'm not used to it, being a sort of nocturnal human monster thingy.

The place doesn't have much dust, but everything's covered in white sheets anyways. Just about everything that isn't is still in a box. Otherwise, the place isn't too bad looking.

I start snooping around, getting my knife out to greet the new neighbor. Of course, I check the kitchen first. Nothing special; no blood, dust, food, or anything remotely interesting or fun in here. I check the sink, and reflecting in the metal, I see something on the ceiling. I look up to get a better look at it, and weirdly enough, it's a frigging Jigsaw piece drawn in red paint up on the white ceiling tiles, with the words: "Do you want to play a game?"

Well fuck me with a rusty fork, we've got a trickster in the house! Either that, or the latest set for the next Saw movie.

There's a little rope hanging nearby, which either connects to the attic, or the upper floor. I pull it, and it seems to be the door to whatever, put a pile of stuff comes raining down on me, knocking me to the ground. The lights come on in what I thought was a house not connected to a proper electrical grid, and I get a better look at the crap that's pinning me to the ground right now.

Dolls. Puppets. Creepy little nightmare machines built for the amusement of children, but only to succeed in scaring the ever loving fuck out of them. And the damn things were all naked too, ugh. Thank god they aren't anatomically correct, but they still disgust me.

I call for backup when I hear a maniacal giggle.

**\- JefftheKiller has begun messaging TicciTobi! -**

JK: DUDE I NEED BACKUP ASAP!  
JK: SHIT HAS HIT THE FAN IN HERE!  
TT: Oh god what did you do this time?  
JK: nothing, now come here and help me  
TT: Calm down, dude, I need to know what I'm dealing with here.  
TT: IS slendy getting pissy at you again for trailing blood on the carpet?  
JK: no i-  
TT: Is there another angry batch of muggles chasing after you with torches and pitchforks?  
TT: Are you being attacked by a grizzly bear?  
TT: Or is it the worst case scenario?  
TT: GASP  
TT: FANGIRLS?  
JK: FUCK YOU MAN, its worse.  
JK: Puppets.  
TT: what  
JK: I am being assaulted by seven different kinds of anatomically incorrect Uncanny Valley right here, and I think our new neighbor might be another transdimensional douche.  
TT: Like Zalgo?  
JK: If the bastard had a thing for comfy log cabins and creepy as fuck dolls, maybe.  
JK: Dude, send in the cavalry.

**\- JefftheKiller has gone idle! -**

TT: UH, Jeff?  
TT: Dude, you okay?

And that's around when a hand snatched up my phone. I yelled at them threateningly "Hey! GIVE THAT BACK!"

"Not until you apologize for breaking and entering." was the answer I got, in a surprisingly normal and easy to understand voice. Last time I checked, all interdimensional douchnozzels either spoke in the voice of a thousand screaming devils or didn't speak aloud at all. But this person seemed actually kinda... British? What the hell?

I got a better look at the stranger.

For one thing, it was a chick, and not exactly very young either. She looked pretty stuffy, wearing a female blue suit, and having her hair in a tight bun. How the heck did she think moving into the middle of the freaking woods would be a good idea? Although, I think she isn't human, entirely at least. Her eyes were glassy like those on one of these horrible dolls; staring through me.

Right now she looked somewhere between irritated and amused, "My my, you're quite the mess, young man. When was the last time you've washed your hair?"

I gave her my widest ear to literal ear grin, "Back when the last person who reprimanded me for it went to sleep."

She gave a scoff, "Not the most creative euphemism, but I suppose they aren't meant to be too vague."

"What is with everybody and making fun of my catchphrase?!" I said angrily, "It's my thing, just fucking deal with it!"

SMACK!

What the- The bitch just fucking hit me! Clocked me over the head with one of those freaky fucking dolls!

She was giving me a glare now, "You are in my house, and in my presence. And you do not use bad language around ME, got it?"

"Hell no!" I yelled, whipping my knife back out and climbing out of the pile of dolls, "I've got a greeting to give, lady, so why don't you just fucking go to sleep?"

To my surprise, she smirked at me, "I think whoever told you to come greet me gave you the wrong impression. Now, boy, how about I teach you some manners?"

She pulled something out of her suit jacket. Oh shit its a gun.

Then it really hits me.

OH SHIT IT'S A MOTHERFUCKING GUN.

And it's pointed right at me.


	2. Chapter 2

** Jeff's POV **

_Oh shit, oh crap, oh fuck!_

If you haven't already realized, I have been shot before. Kind of comes with the territory of being a serial killer and all that. However, there is one little detail that most people forget when they hear about us Creeps: WE ACTUALLY FEEL PAIN! It's a lot harder to hurt us after our transformation, sure, but getting shot, salt thrown in your eyes, stabbed by rivals, hit by cars, and so on, it still fucking hurts!

So naturally, I backed up a few steps when the chick brandished the fancy pistol. It kind reminded me of one of those old western cowboy revolvers, but not so dusty.

Meanwhile, the lady gave me a little smile. It would have looked sweet or matronly if it hadn't been for the fact she was holding me at gunpoint. She asked me politely, "Now that I have your honest attention, would you _please_ put your knife down?" I could tell she didn't intend for it to be a request. 

Reluctantly, I put my BFF onto the counter, not taking my eyes off of her. Her smile widens, and she puts the gun back in her jacket. "Now that you've decided to behave," she bullshitted, "I think it would be best to introduce ourselves. My name is Elizabeth White, or as some of my friends call, the Dollmaker. What is yours?"

She held out her hand, gloved like some sort of flight attendant, as if she was actually expecting me to  be a gentleman. I kept my hands to my sides, "The name's Jeff the Killer, Doll."

Doll frowned at me, whether for the refusal of the polite handshake or the new nickname, I didn't care. She folded her hands behind her back, and straightened her posture to resemble a mannequin with a metal pole up its ass, "I didn't know _Der Ritter_ kept such rude company."

"Uh, 'Der Ripper'? Who and or what is that?" I asked, unfamiliar with the freaky foreign bullcrap. The stuffy broad rolled her eyes, "Der Ritter; it means ' _The Knight_ ' in German. I believe his modern name is Slenderman."

Oh. Is this why Slendy suddenly acted all stiff when he gave me the assignment? Well, I'm in for a brutal reunion later.

"Well, damn, Slendy's gonna be so pissed," I laughed amiably(read "nervously"), and the lady just plain laughed. "Oh, yes, I believe he will be most displeased to find one of his oldest associates to have been accosted by one of his acolytes."

I hardly understood a bunch of the words in that phrase, but I think she was experiencing the heartwarming emotion known as Schadenfreude. See? I know a little bit of German.

"Hey, Jeff, I'm here, what's wro- What the crap?" A familiar voice rang out. Dammit Toby, this is why we can't have nice things.

He's standing in the doorway, with his stupid mask making him look like he's staring forward, but a seasoned Creep like me knows he's looking between the dolls, the potential threat(Doll), and his buddy(me). Doll stepped up to him, ignoring the knife in his hand, and raised her own while having the gal to expect him to shake it, "Hello."

For reasons I may never understand, he actually shook the offered hand. Albeit, he has the excuse of being left-handed, so he didn't have to drop his protection or anything. He shook her hand at arms length, and stepped back after a single shake. "Dude, who's this?" He asked me, not taking his eyes off the lady.

"F-" I was stopped by a death glare from the crazy witch, "Heck if I know. Apparently she knows Slendy, and she's packing dolls and heat."

"Oh, is that why you've got a naked Barbie crawling up your pant leg?" I jumped to look for the damn thing, only to find nothing and hear two sets of giggles behind me. Well fuck the both of you!

"I think we shall get along just fine, young man. I'm the Dollmaker, or as Jefferey's decided to dub me, Doll." Doll said to my alleged bro, who answered back, "Ticci Toby."


End file.
